


my house of stone, your ivy grows

by weasleysking



Category: The Last Hours Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: 1904, Angst, Christmas, Christmas Party, Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Kissing, London Shadowhunter Institute, Love Confessions, My fav lesbians working their shit out lmao, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Book 1: Chain of Gold, Sex, Smut, lesbian feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28283031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weasleysking/pseuds/weasleysking
Summary: Ariadne’s lips tasted of sugar, sweet and hot, and set a fire that started at Anna’s mouth and raged through her whole body, craving more. Anna pushed Ariadne against the wall, not hard, and put one hand on the girl’s back, the other moving to her dark, thick hair, which she pulled out of it’s fountain and let it flow around Ariadne’s shoulders, running her fingers through it and kissing Ariadne so passionately she wondered if there had ever been a love more intense than theirs; she wondered if any author who’d written any poem or any story about love would ever write one about theirs and how on earth said author would find the words to describe what she felt, what they both felt, as they kissed.or; anna and ariadne finally work things out at the london institute's christmas party in 1904. after all, it is christmas.
Relationships: Ariadne Bridgestock/Anna Lightwood
Kudos: 26





	my house of stone, your ivy grows

**Author's Note:**

> merry christmas my darlings, and if you don't celebrate chirstmas, i hope you have a wonderful day regardless. thank you all for all the love on my work this year, i cant tell you how much its saved me. <3

**London Institute, 1904**

**December 24th (Christmas Eve)**

* * *

Anna Lightwood was not easily shaken. She was relaxed about everything, more often than not. She didn’t care what anyone thought of her, as anyone who saw her at the London Institute’s annual Christmas party that Eve, in one of her finer suits, could see. She was used to the filthy looks from some of the older Shadowhunters; they simply made her laugh now. She took them in her stride. This particular evening, she’d shed the suit jacket in favor of a simple shirt and dark purple suspenders; her black pants reaching her ankles cut above her shiny black men’s dress shoes. Her dark hair had flopped to the right side as it tended to do these days, and she was smoking her favored long pipe. Her eyes traveled the room easily, watching its inhabitants as she leaned against the far wall of the ball room. There was Will and Tessa, with her own parents and Sophie and Gideon. What a perfect looking family, she thought as she regarded them with love. James and Cordelia stood arm in arm, talking happily to Matthew, Lucie and Christopher. Matthew was telling a loud, crude joke, and Lucie was attempting to wrestle the drink out of his hand. Thomas and Alastair had disappeared a while ago, she’d noticed, smirking quietly to herself. Having grown closer with Alastair in the last few months, and as the person who stood in the corner of such parties as this all the time, regarding each guest with deep consideration and analysis as she smoked, she was quite sure she knew what they were up to. 

Magnus Bane appeared suddenly at her side. She was very fond of the warlock who had helped her parents, aunts and uncles out of many tight spots at her age, and who’d provided her with not only much appreciated fashion advice, but other life advice too; how exactly to not care, to live her authentic truth, to, quite simply, be herself. They had grown rather close over the years, especially since he’d introduced Anna to many of his influential downworld friends who adored her. Magnus was fond of very few Shadowhunters, and she was pleased to be one of the select few. 

“Good evening, darling,” he said now, giving her a kiss on the cheek and taking a drag of the offered pipe. “Merry Christmas.” 

“And to you,” she said. “Do you have plans for tomorrow?” 

“Visiting an old friend,” he said vaguely, but didn’t give much more detail. Anna didn’t push. Magnus was a closed book, and she had a lot of respect for it. “Yourself?” 

“Here, with my family,” she said, eyeing her brother now as he inched towards the door, probably hoping to sneak down to the lab, bored out of his mind. “Then perhaps Ragnor’s. He dropped me a line about an adorable faerie girl who was simply desperate to meet me.” 

“Well, that’s one way to spend Christmas, I suppose,” Magnus said, handing her pipe back to her as they continued to survey the room together, something they both did at parties. “Though I must warn you, if you arrive when he is intoxicated, Ragnor  _ will  _ make you wear a silly Christmas hat. I’m not sure how charming the faerie girls find that.” 

“Thanks for the heads up,” Anna replied, grinning, “but I’m sure I have charm either way.” 

“That you do, my dear.” 

The two continued a conversation for the next few minutes, here and there with their chatter; Downworld gossip, Shadowhunters they disliked, upcoming fashion, all sorts. She was just beginning to fall into the lull of the conversation when Ariadne Bridgestock walked in. 

Anna had known she was coming of course, and she was planning to do what she always did in the presence of Ariadne these days; ignore the girl. They hadn’t spoken since Ariadne had recovered from the demonic illness she suffered the year before when London had been under attack. Anna had let herself go in front of Ariadne when she’d been suffering, sure the girl couldn’t hear her as she’d had a momentary period of weakness, telling her she loved her and begging her to recover. It was Magnus who’d taught Anna to be herself, but it was Ariadne, all those years ago when they’d first met, who'd taught Anna not to let people in. It was Ariadne who had hurt her worst of all, worse than any of the Shadowhunters who’d spat on her name or cursed her out, called her parents unforgettable words. 

Anna Lightwood was not easily shaken, but tonight, it was Ariadne Bridgestock who shook the girl to her core. 

Anna’s breath caught in her throat as she saw the other girl, light as a feather, practically float into the room. The others she’d been watching so carefully melted away; there was only one person Anna could see. Ariadne was in a floor length, shimmering gold and black dress, and every time she moved, it glistened, but not nearly as much as her dark eyes, shining with character. Simple gold necklaces shimmered against her dark skin, and her long black hair was piled atop her head, strands falling loose around her face, shaping it. She brought forth what could only be described an incandescent glow, and time slowed as she moved gracefully through the outskirts of the dance floor, reaching for two drinks, handing one to her father, behind her, whom Anna barely noticed, and grasping one herself. Ariadne held herself a tarnished but grand demeanor, her sharp chin in the air as she took in her surroundings. The soft piano playing was starting to reach Anna’s ears again, people’s voices, but she was still practically in a trance until someone pinched her shoulder. 

“Magnus,” she hissed reproachfully, rubbing her shoulder and glaring at the warlock, her eyes sliding away from Ariadne for the first time since she’d entered the room. 

“She broke your heart, didn’t she?” Magnus asked so casually Anna coughed on her recent inhale of smoke. 

“No,” she said weakly, her eyes travelling back to the other girl, who was now in discussion with her mother and Tessa. 

“How convincing,” Magnus grinned. “Darling Anna, I really think you ought to talk to her.” 

Anna resumed glaring at Magnus. “Be quiet,” she snapped imperverishly. 

“It’s Christmas, after all,” Magnus continued, either oblivious to Anna’s eye roll or ignoring it. “What better time is there for forgiving?” 

“Any time other than this one,” Anna replied. 

“Hmmm,” Magnus hummed. “That may be an issue, as she’s coming towards us right now.” 

“She’s  _ what _ ?!” Anna hissed, turning to see the most beautiful girl she’d ever laid eyes on walk toward them, her face unreadable. Anna was frozen, watching the girl get closer until she was right upon them. 

“Good evening!” Magnus said pleasantly to Ariadne. “Ms Bridgestock, is it?” He clasped Ariadne’s hand and kissed it, and she smiled at him courteously. 

“It’s a pleasure, Mr Bane. I’ve heard wonderful things about you from the Herondales.” Even her voice, soft but clear, made Anna’s heart ache. 

“Ah, well, we go back,” Magnus smiled. “Speaking of, I must talk to Will. I’ll leave you two lovely ladies to it,” Magnus winked at Anna, who was making frantic eye contact with him, trying to be subtle, but Magnus only grinned and wandered off. Anna turned back to Ariadne, trying not to grimace as she felt a flush rise in her cheeks. 

“Hello Anna,” Ariadne spoke first, smiling shyly at her. 

“Hi,” Anna said, clearing her throat. “Ariadne, hi. It’s been some time.” 

“Indeed it has.” 

It was silent for a moment, and Anna struggled with what to say, pushing down the overwhelming desire to take the girl by the hand to the dance floor or to take her away from this place and never look back, to get to know her all over again, to be with her and  _ only  _ her-

“I presume you heard of mine and Charles’s ended engagement? Old news, but I figured you would have liked to know.” 

“And why is that?” Anna said, voice icy, suddenly angry, remembering how much it had hurt when Ariadne had chosen a quiet, lie of a life over a magical one with Anna. “What good did you think it would do me to know?” 

Ariadne’s eyes were sad. 

“You know why,” she said softly. “But I understand if you’d rather not talk about it.” 

Anna knew, deep down, it had hurt Ariadne as much as it had hurt Anna to choose Charles. Anna was lucky, she realised suddenly, older and wiser than she had been when her heart had been broken, that though the other shadowhunters may wish to shun her, she had a family who would love her no matter what. She wasn’t sure if Ariadne had anything close to that. 

She was so beautiful, Anna could barely breathe. 

“I should go,” Ariadne said suddenly, snapping Anna out of her thoughts. “I am sorry Anna, I shouldn’t have even come to talk to you in the first place-” 

Anna cut her off, grabbing her hand so suddenly the other girl jumped, and dragging her out of the ball room. 

“Anna-” 

“Shhh.” 

Anna dragged her along the corridor where a few people mingled, and she didn’t look at them. She turned three lefts and a sharp right into a room she knew would be empty and far enough away from the commotion they could be in peace. She pulled the other girl into Tessa’s study and shut the door behind her, turning to face Ariadne for the first time since they’d left the party. She looked slightly out of breath, her eyes wide and sparkling with curiosity. 

“Anna,” she all but whispered. “What are you doing?” 

“That,” Anna said softly but firmly, “depends on you.” 

There was a brief silence, and then Ariadne started forward, pressing her lips to Anna’s, wrapping her hands around the taller girl’s neck. 

Ariadne’s lips tasted of sugar, sweet and hot, and set a fire that started at Anna’s mouth and raged through her whole body, craving more. Anna pushed Ariadne against the wall, not hard, and put one hand on the girl’s back, the other moving to her dark, thick hair, which she pulled out of it’s fountain and let it flow around Ariadne’s shoulders, running her fingers through it and kissing Ariadne so passionately she wondered if there had ever been a love more intense than theirs; she wondered if any author who’d written any poem or any story about love would ever write one about theirs and how on earth said author would find the words to describe what she felt, what they both felt, as they kissed. 

Ariadne left a trail of kisses down Anna’s neck that forced her to gasp and her eyelashes to flutter against her cheekbones. “Ari,” she gasped, “Ari, oh how I’ve missed you-” 

“I’m sorry,” Ariadne said as Anna’s mouth pressed to her cheek, “Oh Anna, please, please, forgive me-” Anna tasted salt and realised the other girl was crying. She paused her kisses and wiped away the other’s tears. 

“Don’t get soft on me,” she joked gently with the other girl. “Of course I forgive you, come now, don’t cry-” 

Ariadne giggled through her ceasing tears and kissed Anna again, continuing to patch up the joint tapestry they’d shred. Anna pressed her palm against Ariadne’s, against the wall. She continued to kiss the other girl, first on the lips, then everywhere else; her cheeks, her neck, her chest as she unzipped the dress skillfully and let it fall away around Ari’s waist, letting Ariadne pull the suspenders off her own shoulders and untuck and unbutton her shirt. They kissed and kissed, Anna eventually leaving a trail down Ari’s stomach as the other girl murmured, running her fingers through Anna’s short hair. 

“Keep talking, talk, talk to me,” Anna requested breathlessly from the girl’s waist, on her knees, hands around the girl’s backside and sliding down the dress that had made Anna choke that was steadily coming further and further down her legs. “Talk to me, Ari, I want to hear your voice-” 

“I spent every day alone, no matter who I was with, and your eyes were all I wished to see,” Ari whispered to Anna as she pulled her down to the floor with her. Their clothes were in a heap somewhere nearby now, but neither of them cared. Anna pulled the boots off Ariadne’s feet and her own, throwing them out of the way and continuing to kiss the other girl. Ari’s petticoats were no longer an issue, and Anna began undoing her corset with loving force. Once it was off, the two lay on the ground, Anna atop Ariadne and continued to kiss, harder now, more forcefully, less gently but with just as much love. “Every day, Anna, I wished to touch you, to feel your skin on mine, to take your hand in mine, the one that had been promised to another-” she was breathless as she spoke, and she moaned as Anna moved below her waist, biting her lip so hard she thought she would draw blood. 

“Anna, oh my Anna,” she moaned, her hands still in Anna’s hair, Anna inside of her. “I bet you wished to know the fatal flaw that made me long to be magnificently cursed, to let you go, darling, I couldn’t tell you what it was, but it hurt to let you go, that doesn’t matter now, though, does it?” Anna moved back up towards Ari’s face, her own cheeks flushed, her eyes dancing, licking her lips and kissing Ariadne’s breasts with a kind of passionate force she could not describe. “Keep talking, please, keep talking-” 

“When spring broke loose, so did my fear; clover bloomed in the fields I walked in every evening wishing I was clasping your hand; wondering what someone would do if they found out what I was thinking; they would burn my house to the ground-” 

Anna relished in the girl’s voice, her articulate storytelling even when they were lying naked in each other’s arms on the floor, in the most compromising position they could possibly have been in - she cut Ari off by reaching her lips again. It was like there was fire blazing between them, like they were stone houses, ivy growing on them and covering them until they could no longer be seen. 

Later, much, much later, fully clothed once more, but still looking slightly messy, hair falling every which way and cheeks flushed, the two girls stood at the window, leaning into each other, watching snow fall onto the ground outside. 

“It’s midnight,” Ariadne said suddenly, tearing her eyes from the white wonderland outside and looking at Tessa’s clock. “It’s Christmas.” 

Anna, looking over at the girl who had once broken her heart and had now mended it, smiled mischievously. 

“Merry Christmas darling,” she said, grinning, and swept Ariadne up off her feet before she could protest. Ari only laughed, placing a hand on Anna’s cheek and kissing her gently. 

“Merry Christmas Anna,” she whispered back. “I choose you. I will continue to choose you until the day I die.” 

“And after that?” 

“And after that.” 

Outside, the snow fell, and party goers in the London Institute’s ballroom all wished one another a Merry Christmas, unaware that right around the corner, the world’s most indescribable love story was only just beginning. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading. if you want more shadowhunters chronicles content from me, come hang w me on tumblr @incorrect-tsc, and if you just wanna chat or hang, i'm on twitter @elenaclqire :) <3


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